


You Keep On Asking

by crazylittleelf



Category: Fringe
Genre: Begging, Community: kink_bingo, Implied Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-29
Updated: 2010-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylittleelf/pseuds/crazylittleelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Phillip share a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Keep On Asking

**Author's Note:**

> For kink_bingo. Prompt is begging.

This is how it starts:

After a particularly crappy day, Phillip Broyles orders two whiskeys and retreats to the back of the bar.  He settles into a booth with comfy, padded benches and high backs on the seats, and he waits.  It's a slow night, and the place is nearly empty.  The lights are low, and the chattering of sportscasters on the TV over the bar is providing most of the sound.

When Bishop enters, he scans the bar before heading towards the back, nods and smiles to the bartender as he passes.  He stops beside the table, casual and smirking, and his eyes look dark in the dim light of the bar.  The smirk widens towards something like a smile.

"Can I join you?"

Phillip rakes his eyes over Peter's form in appraisal, taking in the jeans and t-shirt under the light cloth jacket.  The stubble on his jaw is longer than usual, and his hair unruly, charmingly scruffy and annoying at the same time.  Phillip waits long enough that Peter shifts from one foot to another, one hand lifting to scratch at the back of his neck.

"Uh… if you don't mind the company, that is."

Phillip gestures to the booth opposite him, smile quirking his mouth.  He slides the glass across the table, within reach of the other man's hands.  Peter's long fingers circle the glass and pull it closer to him, rock it against the table and swirl the amber liquid within.

There is a subtle lift of his eyebrows, a quirk of his mouth that always precedes the first question.  He clears his throat slightly and his eyes dart around, noting the proximity of other patrons in the bar.  They are well isolated, but it's habit with Peter, ingrained defenses that guard against any dropping of his facade of bravado.  It's why it's so lovely to make him drop the facade time and again.

He's nonchalant at first, bending the rules to his own comfort.  "Mind if I have a drink?"

He fidgets after the question, and Phillip let's him, watching his fingers dance around the rim of the glass.  The little frown forms, the one that looks like a pouty child not getting his way, and there's a challenge in the glare when Peter lifts his eyes.

This first one always costs him most dearly, always a struggle to begin the game.  His jaw juts out slightly, mouth open, teeth grinding.

Phillip leans back in his seat, lifts his own glass to his lips.  Peter watches the movement before snapping his mouth shut, teeth clicking audibly.  His hands clench on either side of the glass, tension highlighting the lines of his arms, the play of muscle under skin. 

Phillip keeps his voice soft, sincere because this is the only out he gives.  "You can leave if you'd like."

Peter's eyes dart up immediately, wide and worried.  He wets his lips, and Phillip can see Peter relax when he makes his decision, tension fleeing, leaving calm acceptance.  He holds Phillip's eyes when he asks.

"May I please have a drink?"

Phillip smiles, wide and genuine.  Later, when they've left the bar, it will be only, "Pleasepleaseplease," but this is how it starts, and for now it's enough.


End file.
